


Beneath the New Moon

by Scrunchles



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Demon Junkrat, Disclaimer: this fic is sad., He got a new skin so I had to, Incubus Jamie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 06:45:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12163605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrunchles/pseuds/Scrunchles
Summary: After his boyfriend's passing, Mako finds himself haunted by a strange apparition.





	Beneath the New Moon

Superstition ran deep in the Rutledge line.

 

Mako’s parents didn't feed him the little lies that other kids were told: that drop bears would eat kids who stayed out too late, or that bunyips would drag people into swamps or lakes at night, then eat them.

 

Mako was told to respect the dead; don't use ouija boards; don’t invoke any name while bleeding.

 

He wouldn't have thought much of their warnings, but they were so smart and grounded. Mako trusted them.  

 

He hadn't realized that there was truth to the warnings until he broke the one he put the least amount of faith in:

 

Don't fuck on a new moon.

 

Rubbing raw and blindness were among the warnings his peers received against masturbation.  However, once Mako started using more socks at night than during the day, his father sat him down and told him that he didn't care what Mako did in his privacy, but he should always use a condom and never ever  _ ever  _ masturbate during the new moon.

 

Despite thinking himself above his family’s superstitions after he moved out and spent a semester in college, Mako found himself biting his tongue instead of yelling any kind of name when he drew blood.  He had excused himself from multiple parties as soon as they started playing games with spirits or demons. And he glanced at the moon every night he felt the urge to shove his hand down his pants, or when a man talked hot and dirty in his ear.  When it wasn't hanging in the starry sky, he found himself turning on the TV or picking up a book instead-- pulling away with a half-baked excuse.

 

It wasn't because of the warnings.  He told himself that for years.

 

And yet, all the lights were off and the moon wasn't in the sky.  

 

Mako’s heart ached with loneliness, no matter how hard he tried to push it away.  He told himself that it was better this way, that he was made to be alone, but that didn't mean that he believed it.

 

He still remembered thin lips, sharp smiles and clever fingers that never quite stopped moving.  He felt a twinging throb in his stomach as he remembered long moonless nights pressed together on the couch, Mako’s superstitions accepted and deemed “cute.”  Long, stupid nights where they talked and kissed and Mako laid himself bare to orange eyes that knew he was a violent, angry asshole but didn't care.

 

It was wasted time.  It was all wasted time and now he wasn't there and Mako felt like he was going to break apart.

 

He slammed his hand on the coffee table.  It cracked under the force and a cup shattered under his fist.

 

“Fuck!” He shook his hand and broken ceramic clicked against the cracked wood.  He felt warm, slick blood run down his wrist and forearm.

 

“Goddamnit, Jamie,” he growled, his eyes wet for the first time in decades.  “You stupid son of a bitch.  God  _ fucking _ damnit.”

 

He wasn't going to do this.  He wasn't going to cry and fall asleep on the couch instead of going to bed like a human being.

 

He didn’t end up crying, but he still fell asleep on the couch.

 

Mako woke up hours later chasing desperately after a warm mouth and calloused fingertips.

 

He used his off hand.  His other had blood caked across the lines of his palm and it ached like shit.  As soon as he touched his aching cock, though, the pain faded and he lost himself in the remaining tendrils of his dream.

 

Or he would have, if he hadn't felt a sudden heat crawl up his spine and bloom across his back.  What felt like sharp, searing nails scraped from his shoulders down to his elbows.  He jerked his hand out of his pants and rolled off the couch.  He struggled for the lamp on the other side of the couch and turned it on.

 

He was alone.  His coffee table had a crack down the middle and his favorite mug was in bloody pieces on the floor.  He still felt the lines down his arms and rubbed at the hair raising tingle left behind.

 

Mako glanced around the room, but there wasn’t anything out of place.  The feeling of nails on his skin had been too even to just be a stray bit of piping on the couch.  Maybe he had slipped into a half sleep or something.  Mako went to the bathroom to clean up his hand, then went to bed.

 

The pain dulled over the next month.  His hand healed, and his heart turned from raw and bleeding to scabbed and aching.  He must have been dreaming, because after a few hesitant nights, Mako started jerking off again and nothing odd happened.  It was the only thing that kept his mind off of Jamie most nights.  At least long enough for him to get to sleep.

 

When the moon disappeared, he considered not touching himself out of old habit, but ultimately, he wanted sleep.  He didn't even think about the strange heat and the itching drag of claws across his skin until he was groaning into the dark and the heat spread from his spine outward across his broad back again.  

 

It stopped between his shoulderblades, and the only thing that dragged his mind away from _that's how he fit_ _against me_ was the arid puff of breath against his neck.

 

The claws started at his shoulders again and moved down his arms to his elbows.  They paused before tickling heat down his forearms.  

 

Mako’s hands had stilled, one around his cock and the other on his chest, a finger curled around his nipple ring, but no longer playing with it.

 

The claws led to warm fingers and then hands.  They cupped his own, just as hot as the nails that had left burning lines down his arms.  What was happening? He ached to run for the light, but he suspected that it would just leave him alone in the room again.  He wanted to know what the fuck was going on.

 

When he didn't move, instead just lying there holding his breath, the hands started moving for him and he relaxed again, pretty sure he was dreaming.  It had to be a dream.  One hand started guiding his hand up and down his cock again and the other pulled at his nipple ring.  The distinct click of metal against claw snapped him out of his pleasant daze.  He struggled out of his blanket, but the heat clung to his back and the nails bit into his chest and thigh.  There was a hiss in his ear with words he didn't understand.

 

He stumbled for the light switch. Blunt teeth pressed against his skin.  The foreign words kept coming and the claws stung, but there was something plaguing him and he was going to catch it.  Mako flipped the light on and turned to look in the mirror above his dresser--

 

“What the fuck?” He whispered.

 

There was nothing on his back, and he hadn't felt the…  _ thing _ let go.  There were deep scratches on his leg, though.  They went from the inside of his thigh to the joint of his hip.  Deeper, shorter gouges only a few inches long bled on his breast; two lines were above his nipple and two below.  He reached up to touch them and winced.  He turned to see a single puncture where a thumb might dig in.

 

He moved to the couch for several nights.  He didn't sleep well, getting only a few hours in before he gave up and watched TV instead.

 

When he did go back to his bed, nothing happened.  When he went back to comforting himself, nothing happened.

 

Maybe he was just crazy.

 

The next new moon, Mako kept his hands at his sides and laid awake, blessedly thinking about something other than Jamie.  He was more focused on what the fuck had been happening to him.  The claw marks had scarred, leaving thin pink streaks on his dark skin.

 

Running his fingers across the raised lines was the only thing keeping him sane.  The only thing reminding him that he wasn't crazy.  Maybe he should get his house exorcised.

 

He didn't touch himself that night, or the next new moon.  After that… well, he could only be distracted by his confusion for so long.

 

He was still alone and he still hurt.

 

The next dark night saw Mako with a fifth of whiskey and the determination to figure out what the fuck had happened.

 

His head was swimming when he pushed his underwear down and wrapped his hand around his soft prick.

 

It didn't take much.  He could already feel the heat spreading from his spine.  The claws slid across his skin, trailing from his shoulders up to his neck, then down his chest to rest on his belly.  Hot palms rubbed circles on his stomach and he heard the strange language whispered into his ear.

 

The heat, while disconcerting and bordering on uncomfortable, wasn't painful.  It was just barely tolerable, like whatever was touching him knew how much it would take to burn him and willfully stayed just a few degrees lower.  He turned his head to try and see the thing, but all was dark.  He felt a nose bump his own, and a laugh echoed through his room, the loudest noise the thing had made.  A cackle that sounded so very familiar.  

 

He felt his stomach drop.  His heart throbbed. 

 

“Jamie…?” His voice came out in a whisper.  He couldn't deal with this.  His dead boyfriend was… what? A spirit?  A ghost?

 

A set of claws played with his nipple ring idly, soft clicks of metal on talon the only thing convincing him that it wasn't merely fingers; that it wasn’t just his imagination.

 

He was going insane.  That had to be what was happening.

 

Searing lips pressed against his own.  He reached for Jamie, trying to drag him into his lap, but every time he grasped too hard, his hand went through.  He wasn't as solid as his hands, claws and laugh made him seem.  It took some coaxing and cursing and very gently guiding Jamie around to his lap before he was wrapping his arms around him.  Mako’s arms clutched through where Jamie should be if he didn't focus on how they should fall against him, and the feel of his lips faded if Mako tried to go past  a mere press of their mouths.  Jamie made a remark and turned in Mako’s arms to put his hot back against Mako’s chest.

 

“I can't fucking escape you,” Mako mumbled, shivering as claws tickled his inner thigh.

 

Jamie’s hand grazed Mako’s cock, but it seemed like he couldn't really grasp it.  His hand moved to rest on top of Mako’s, and it felt briefly like he was trying to grip Mako’s hand before the pressure lifted and the heat of the spirit began to fade.

 

Mako grabbed for Jamie, but his hand passed through hot air and he was alone.

 

He tried jerking off again, but when Jamie didn't return, he lost interest.  Lying back, Mako tried to think through what had happened, but he was too busy trying to figure out if his heart was feeling pain or joy.

 

He fell asleep before he could figure it out.

 

The next new moon, Mako was ready.  He was stone cold sober and he was sitting naked in bed with a ouija board in front of him.

 

His parents would fucking kill him if they knew any of this, knew how many rules he was breaking.  Mako moved the planchette across the board, spelling out one word:  _ JAMIE? _

 

There was no heat, no claws, just stillness and Mako desperately willing the planchette to move away from the question mark.

 

When it did, it went the wrong way.  It moved in little jolts up and up to the top right corner.

 

_ No. _

 

Mako shoved the board off the bed in frustration and rubbed at his face.  He wasn't in the least bit horny-- he was frustrated and sad and scared; he felt like he was losing Jamie all over again-- but he knew that the previous times Jamie had appeared, he had been touching himself on a new moon.

 

He took himself in his hand and went to work, determined to, at the very least, release the stress from all this bullshit.  He was half hard when the heat rolled across his back and the claws combed through his hair, leaving fiery lines across his scalp that were just this side of too hot.

 

He shivered and slowed his hand, but one of the apparition's jumped down to cup his wrist and seemed to pass through it in its haste.  Jamie cursed in that strange language before his hot hand gently cupped Mako’s and Jamie guided his hand up and down, encouraging him to continue.

 

Mako kept stroking himself, relaxing into the heat against his back and on his hand.  He wasn't alone.  Jamie wasn't all gone.  He was still here.  

 

As Mako got closer, the heat flared against his back and Jamie whispered arid words against his ear that he didn't understand, but knew the meaning from how they were said.  It helped.  He had always loved how much Jamie talked to him when they fucked, and God the man knew how to be absolutely filthy.

 

“Fuck,” he groaned when he finally came.  He dropped his hand from his cock and relaxed into his pillow, panting and longing for a lithe body to cuddle with.

 

Jamie pressed against his side and Mako felt hot lips against his stubbled cheek.  The hot hand was wrapped around his flagging election, and it seemed to be stronger now, hotter.  It started stroking him, and he relaxed into it.  There was no way he was going to be able to come again so soon.

 

He did.

 

Hours later, Mako’s bed was drenched in sweat.  The heat had subsumed him and he felt Jamie everywhere.  He had lost count of how many times the spirit had brought him over the edge, but he still seemed to want more.  Jamie was getting stronger, more corporeal, every time Mako let out a cry and his poor, spent cock twitched but didn't let anything out.

 

“Jamie,  _ please _ ,” Mako groaned.  He needed to sleep.  He needed Jamie to stop whispering that stupid fucking language he didn't understand.  He needed an explanation.  He felt like he was going insane again, but at least this time he knew that there was something toying with him on new moons.

 

He still felt crazy.

 

Jamie didn't heed his plea.  Or, if he did, he thought Mako was asking for more.  A hot tongue slid from Mako’s head down his shaft, and heat followed all around him.

 

Mako gripped his damp sheets in one hand and reached for Jamie’s head with the other.  Spirits had heads, didn't they?

 

His hand touched something edging on corporeal, but it didn't feel like hair, and it wasn't in quite the right place.  As Mako felt it, it became more real.  The hard edge, the ribbed texture, how cool it was in relation to the rest of Jamie.  As he worked his way down whatever it was, he felt coarse, greasy hair, and then hot skin-- a forehead.

 

He tried pushing back.  The mouth kept tonguing him but not sucking, perhaps he wasn't real enough for that yet-- if that was what was happening.  He was so warm though, and eager, and Mako found his hips jerking up again and again until he tumbled over the edge, his cock twitching and just as dry as it had been the past four or five times he’d climaxed.

 

“Jamie…  _ stop… _ ” he panted.

 

The mouth, hands and heat all left him at once.

 

He felt cold and alone.  He reached out to pat the bed, then checked beside him, wondering if he was standing up.

 

He wasn't.

 

Mako turned over and made a face at how fucking damp everything was.  He grabbed a blanket and pillow from the linen closet and moved to the dry couch, falling asleep almost immediately.

 

The wait for the new moon was torture.

 

Mako went through the motions of his life, but everything felt wrong.  It felt like he was reliving the first week after the accident, expecting Jamie to walk in the door any second, toss his keys on the coffee table and leave his jacket on the floor like some kind of godless animal.

 

Except, instead of a week, it lasted a month.

 

It was worse than torture.  It was hell.

 

When the month had passed, Mako started jerking off as soon as he got home.  He sat in the reds and oranges of the setting sun and didn't even bother pushing his pants down his legs before he wrapped his hand around himself and started stroking.

 

He stopped when nothing happened, and watched his cock slowly lose interest as melancholy overtook him.  He didn't watch TV or read a book.  He forgot to make dinner.  He just sat on his couch and watched the shadows grow around him until that’s all there was.

 

He tried again, and as soon as he touched himself, fire spilled over him.  There wasn't any light in the room, so he couldn't see the long limbs or the wide smile, but he felt them.  The heat spread across his chest instead of his back, and the lips felt more real against his jaw and neck as Jamie settled in his lap.

 

Jamie's hand cupped Mako’s.

 

“Jamie…” he said, not wanting another run of exhausting, ultimately unsatisfying orgasms to leave him cold and alone again.  He didn't want to deny Jamie what he wanted, but he didn't want to be left alone, cold and spent.

 

Jamie said something back, but Mako couldn't understand it.  He sounded pouty.

 

Mako leaned forward and kissed Jamie, finding a hot cheek.  He felt teeth against his chin, and Jamie’s hands pried his own away from his cock to begin stroking him.  Mako wrapped his hands around Jamie, trying to feel him out.  His hands slipped through the spirit a few times, but when he was touching Jamie, he could tell it  _ was _ Jamie.  He had a scar from the time someone had stabbed him in the kidney, the ridged scarring from gravel burn the first few times he’d spun out on Mako’s bike.

 

When he tried to grab Jamie’s ass, his hand closed on nothing.  Jamie’s hand tightened on him and Mako bucked his hips, trying to grab too hard and ending up smacking himself in the stomach.

 

Jamie laughed and it sparked a chuckle from Mako.

 

He relaxed again and just let Jamie touch him.

 

“Talk to me,” Mako said, remembering all the times he’d told Jamie to shut up.  

 

Jamie started chattering immediately.  Mako tuned out the strange language and focused on his tone, his voice.  He had had enough filthy talk from Jamie to know a rough approximation of what he was saying.

 

“ _Love this, doncha? Love how I touch you?  You wanna touch me, but you can't.  You can't, can you?  Fucking deal with it._ _It’s my turn to touch._ ” or something like that.  That sounded like Jamie.  

 

“Jamie…” Mako groaned and tried to grab onto him, but his hands slipped right through.  He settled for holding onto the couch cushion and bucked up into the hot hand.  He slipped through it a few times, but it only made Jamie laugh and press his other hand to Mako’s belly.  His voice was playful and chastising.

 

“No, I'm not going to relax.”  Mako felt himself sobering and he reached for Jamie’s hand, tried to pull it away from his cock.  They needed to talk.  He couldn't just keep reliving the past on the new moon and feeling like shit for the rest of the month.  “Jamie, we need to--”

 

Jamie pressed a hand against Mako’s mouth and kept stroking him.

 

“ _ After, _ ” Jamie was saying-- Mako could tell from his tone.  After, after, always after.  Jamie had always been good at getting what he wanted. 

 

Mako groaned as the hand around his cock overwhelmed him with heat.  After, after.

 

When he came, he heard Jamie moan louder than him.  Jamie’s hand moved from his mouth to his cheek.  His lips pressed against Mako’s and he felt the ghost of a hard, hot cock press against his stomach.  Mako reached for it.

 

Jamie sighed and deepened the kiss.  Mako’s lips and tongue didn't go straight through him.  He kissed Jamie and jerked him off and felt somehow at peace.  With every drag of his hand, Jamie burned hotter and felt more solid than he had during any of the other nights.

 

Mako groaned into Jamie’s mouth.  He wanted to fuck him.  He wanted to lay him out on the couch and bone the shit out of him.  

 

He missed him.

 

He tried to grab Jamie’s ass, but it still wasn't there.  Mako sighed heavily and kept jerking Jamie.  When he took much longer than usual to come and kept repeating the same phrase in that strange language, Mako got the picture and started talking about all the things he wanted to do to him.

 

He wanted to suck his cock again-- he missed the taste of his come.  He wanted to be able to push Jamie again-- he missed shoving him around.  He wanted to fuck Jamie-- he missed the way he felt around him; he missed the noises he made.  

 

Jamie gasped, then groaned.  A gust of hot, dry air hit Mako’s neck.  He felt come on his stomach and hand.  He breathed in deep, but he couldn't smell Jamie.  All he smelled was his own sweat and come and the house that hadn't felt like home in months.

 

He wanted to see him.  He reached for the lamp, but Jamie caught his hand and Mako remembered the times he had turned on the light before.  Jamie hadn't been there.

 

“You’re not here,” Mako said, leaning back against the couch and feeling the pain wash over him.

 

Jamie kissed Mako’s jaw and spoke to him.

 

“No, you're not here.  You died.  You  _ can't  _ fucking be here.”  Mako said, shaking his head and letting out a long, resigned sigh.  

 

Jamie pressed his face against Mako’s neck and nipped his skin, then he began to suck.

 

Mako sighed again and felt a lump in his throat.  He took a deep breath when Jamie wrapped his hand around Mako’s cock and started stroking him again.

 

“Wait,” Mako said, wrapping his arms around Jamie gently and moving to stand.  Jamie continued kissing and nipping Mako’s neck.  His hands grasped Mako’s shoulders and the brush of a heel that was almost not there touched Mako’s lower back.

 

Once they reached Mako’s bed, he lie down and let Jamie get comfortable.  Jamie settled down beside him and started jerking him off again.

 

Mako took a long time to come. After, he reached for Jamie, but he was already spreading Mako’s knees and sliding down to put him in his mouth.

 

“Jamie--” he gasped as heat surrounded his overly sensitive cock.  “Fuck…” he couldn't push him away.  He didn't want him to disappear again.  

 

If he was even there.  He wanted the lie for just a little bit longer.  He was fine being batshit insane.  Just a little bit longer.

 

Jamie kept him going until he was exhausted again, then settled down beside him.  He kissed his ear and moved Mako’s hand toward his cock before cuddling closer.

 

Mako jerked Jamie off slowly, it was all he had the energy for, but Jamie settled into kissing and nibbling his neck again.  He seemed content with Mako’s sedate speed.

 

The next morning, Mako woke up alone.  

 

He felt drained, like he hadn't slept for a week and then went on a bender the previous night to finish it off.  He called in to work, and fell asleep again.

 

When he woke up, he had some food and decided to clean himself up before going back to bed.  In the mirror, he saw red bruises on either side of his neck.  Two hickies.

 

“Piece of shit,” he said, smiling fondly before remembering that he was probably going crazy.  He went to bed again, too tired and buzzed on all of the sex he might have had the previous night.

 

After a few days, Mako was back to normal.  The month was less melancholy than the last, and he was considering just sleeping the night of the new moon.  Maybe all of this was his psyche telling him that he had to let Jamie go.  Maybe he should.

 

He made it through a few hours of sleep before he woke up to the hot press of Jamie against his stomach.  When he opened his eyes, two yellow irises set in glowing orange stared at him.

 

The eyes lit pale, bushy eyebrows from below and a long, distinctive nose between them.  

 

“I didn't…”

 

“Hurts that you didn't,” Jamie said.  His voice sounded strange, but it  _ was _ him.

 

Mako hesitantly reached for Jamie, and he felt more solid than he ever had in the past-- how many months had Mako been doing this?  How long had Jamie been dead?

 

“I mean, it  _ physically _ hurts. You’ve been feeding me for months, and now you, what? Need a break?  Did you strain your dick?”  Jamie’s words were hard, but Mako could see the shadow of a smile in the dark.

 

Pieces of the puzzle clicked together for Mako, and he reached up to touch Jamie’s face.  He kissed the freckle on his nose and rubbed his fingers across his smooth cheek.  “That why you kept jerking me off until I couldn't feel my prick.”

 

Jamie hummed and raised his hand to touch the back of Mako’s on his cheek.

 

Dark claws, red skin.

 

Maybe it was just the light from Jamie’s eyes. 

 

“You gonna go if I turn the light on?” Mako asked.

 

Jamie shrugged and answered in the strange language.  It sounded more fitting for him now.  Maybe that's why when he spoke english, it had sounded weird.

 

Mako pressed his thumb against Jamie’s cheekbone and it didn't go through his cheek.  “Can I fuck you yet?” Mako asked, though he regretted it immediately.  There had been so many things he wanted to say to Jamie, but the first thing out of his mouth once he was able to touch him again was just as raunchy as when he was alive.

 

Jamie grinned and leaned in to kiss him, closing his eyes and humming against Mako’s lips.  With Jamie’s bright eyes closed, Mako could see that the tips of his greasy locks of hair were glowing too.  They illuminated what looked like two thick goat horns curving over his head.

 

Mako ignored a sharp pang of uncertainty and slid his hand down from Jamie’s cheek to his neck, shoulder, then back, feeling how solid he was.  This was definitely Jamie.

 

Jamie giggled when Mako gave his ass a squeeze, and one of his hands started playing with Mako’s nipple ring.  

 

Mako sighed, but didn't pull back from the kiss.  He had wanted to talk to Jamie months ago, to tell him how much he had cared-- how much he  _ still _ cared-- all the things he wished he had said before the accident.   

 

Jamie was already pushing his hand down Mako’s underwear and pajamas to grab his dick, though.  It wasn't important anymore.  Jamie was there, hot and solid-- truly solid for the first time.

 

Mako groaned and gave Jamie’s ass another squeeze.  

 

Jamie kept jerking him off in his pants, not bothering to push the clothing down.  His other hand tugged at the nipple ring.  It sent shivers through Mako.  His eyes closed, and he relaxed.

 

Jamie kept kissing him, pressing his tongue deep.  His tongue was too long.  It felt weird, but Mako kissed back anyway.  

 

He had been looking forward to kissing Jamie again.   _ Really _ kissing him.  Long and deep and like they didn't have a care in the world.  They had spent entire afternoons making out and fucking and it had been on par with the best time Mako had had in his life.

 

When Jamie twisted his hand around Mako’s cock, he had to pull back from the kiss to gasp for air.  He shivered as he came, still holding Jamie, hot and solid against him.

 

“Am I going crazy?” Mako asked,  now that Jamie could answer him.  As if he could trust whatever the spirit? ghost? demon? apparition said.

 

“Only if you tell me to leave again,” Jamie said, beginning to nibble and suck at Mako’s neck, in the exact same place he had last month.

 

“Can you stay?” Mako asked, his hands beginning to roam to make sure Jamie was as solid as he was two minutes ago..

 

“Tonight,” Jamie told him.  “I'm not strong enough to stay longer yet.”

 

Mako sighed and squeezed Jamie’s ass again.  He had nearly forgotten how perfect it fit his hand, how much he loved to cup it and give Jamie a pinch or smack.

 

He had gotten so used to being gentle and barely touching Jamie over the past months that the thought of being able to really hold him, to be rough and hard like they had been when he was alive had Mako already tenting his pants again.

 

“Ready to go again?” Jamie asked, grinning that wide, stupid grin Mako loved so goddamned much. 

 

He grabbed Jamie’s arms and his fingers didn't slip through.  He pinned them above Jamie’s head and pushed his pajamas and underwear down with the other.  When he reached for the lube, Jamie hissed and kicked Mako’s hip.  

 

“Don't bother,” he told Mako.  

 

Something primal throbbed deep in Mako’s gut.  Something too soft to be heeded told him that this didn't feel right.

 

Mako jerked his hand away from the drawer to check Jamie’s ass.  It gave easily to his finger, and it was hot.

 

He dragged Jamie’s foot up onto his shoulder and began to press into him.

 

He had never heard this Jamie so vocal.  He groaned and gasped and make a strange sound that Mako didn't have a word for.  It was too inhuman to name, but it sent jolts of desperation through Mako and he kept going.  

 

Jamie wasn't slick, but Mako still slid home easily and began to fuck him in slow, hard strokes.  

 

“So fucking weird,” Mako gasped, sliding his hand up Jamie’s body from his hard and hot cock bouncing against his stomach to his bared teeth that parted so that Mako could shove a finger deep enough for him to choke around.

 

Jamie swallowed around Mako’s finger and scraped his teeth against his knuckle.  His ass clenched, and a groan burbled around Mako’s finger as the demon beneath him came.

 

Mako sped up his thrusts and dragged his finger from Jamie’s mouth so that he could push Jamie’s knee back toward his shoulder, spread him open wider.

 

Jamie gasped and groaned, not coughing from the harsh treatment given to his throat as Mako railed him as hard and fast as he could.  Jamie tightened around him every once in awhile, but didn't stay clenched long enough for Mako to come.

 

By the time he finally allowed Mako release, he was dripping sweat and panting, and he collapsed on Jamie, resting his head against his chest-- which didn't have a heartbeat-- and breathing deeply his own scent.

 

A pang of loneliness hit him when he realized he didn't remember what Jamie smelled like. He knew the different components of Jamie’s smell-- oil, cigarettes, metal and BO-- but he couldn't  _ really _ remember it. 

 

“Jamie,” Mako said, noticing that Jamie’s chest didn't move with his breaths.  “What the fuck  _ are _ you?”

 

Jamie laughed.  It didn't move his chest beneath Mako’s cheek.

 

“I'm here,” Jamie told him.  “ S’enough, right?”

 

Mako turned his face into Jamie’s chest and kissed him.  His skin felt real enough.  His muscles were still ridiculous and his hip bone still dug into Mako’s chest.

 

Everything that had first brought them together was there.  Jamie was hot and he wanted Mako to treat him rough.  He always looked at Mako like he wanted more, always gave him the thumbs up when Mako asked him how he liked it.  It was all there.

 

Mako hummed and gave Jamie’s stomach an open mouthed kiss.  He tasted like nothing.

 

“S’enough,” Mako agreed, even if it wasn't.  Even if Jamie wasn't going to be there in the morning.

 

Jamie petted his claws through Mako’s hair, then slipped his knee between Mako’s legs and started rubbing with a total lack of subtlety.

 

“You ever take a nap?” Mako asked, trying to sound more put out than he actually was.  Against all odds, he was getting hard again.

 

“All month,” Jamie said, gripping Mako by his hair and pulling hard to get him to move up for a kiss.


End file.
